Page 30 of The Loneliest Dragon at Christmas
He clutched his knees. He tried to relax his body. But he couldn’t.
I don’t belong here.
Avery sat across from him. Jack could barely look at him. His gaze darted around the room. Everywhere Jack looked, opulence and wealth slapped him in the face.
On a large polished wooden table in the middle of the room stood a gigantic ceramic vase, painted in pastel hues and embellished with silver. Exotic flowers filled the vase. They must be greenhouse flowers.
“I hope you enjoy the berry tarts. I spoke to Cook this morning, and after some discussion, we decided that the berry tarts would be lovely to have today. Cook said she used fresh strawberries, blueberries, raspberries, and blackberries.” Avery listed the fruits on his fingers.
“Fresh berries?” Jack frowned.
Avery nodded.
Avery could order fresh summer berries in winter. Jack’s bakery would never be able to acquire something like that, far too expensive and hard to get. And Avery mentioned them as if it was nothing.
It probably was nothing to him. Apparently getting summer berries on a whim with less than a day’s notice in winter wasn’t difficult if you had a lot of money.
They would have to be grown in greenhouses that used a great deal of magic to assist the plants. The bakery mainly relied on what was available and dried ingredients in winter. They did source some produce from greenhouses, ones that even usedmagic. Still, it was cheap produce. There was no way his family could get fresh summer berries now.
Jack almost laughed at himself for thinking that he and Avery might be a suitable match.
And how could he have ever mistaken Avery for a servant, a secretary, or a librarian? Avery fit this room so perfectly, so at ease ordering the servant around and sitting in this ostentatious room.
“There isn’t too much snow today.” Avery glanced at the window. “Was it a difficult walk?”
“It was fine,” Jack said.
Daniel returned, rolling in a tray table of tea and tarts. Jack started to rise to help him. But he glanced at Avery, who remained seated. So Jack stayed where he was.
Daniel placed the tarts on individual plates and set them on the table between Avery and Jack. Then he began to pour the tea.
“I know it isn’t a short walk,” Avery said. “I’m glad it wasn’t difficult.”
Jack glanced at Daniel. Was it usual to act like the servant wasn’t even in the room? Should they not include him in the conversation?
Jack’s skin prickled. Did Avery not feel how awkward this was?
Clearly not.
“And how is Carrie? Warm by the fire?” Avery asked.
“Yes,” Jack said. “She was sleeping when I left.”
Daniel handed them each a cup of tea.
“Thank you, Daniel. That will be all.” Avery glanced at Daniel before turning back to Jack.
Daniel bowed and left the room.
“I’m glad she is comfortable,” Avery said. “And how were your siblings today?”
“Good. Very good.” Jack took a sip of his tea.
He glanced at his hands holding the cup and saucer. His work-roughened hands were marked by burn scars from the oven. His hands looked too big and coarse for this delicate teacup. He felt too big and coarse for this drawing room, for this house, for Avery.
Witches’ tits! Were those dragon figurines on the mantel made of real gold?
A couple of books sat on the mantel beside them. Suddenly, Jack remembered the book he’d bought for Avery that he’d forgotten in his coat pocket. He’d been so excited to give Avery the tattered second-hand book. But now all he could think of was how cheap the book had been and how it had a slight tear on the cover. He remembered the worn pages and the stains.
